


May I introduce you?

by just_beginning



Series: In Unison [2]
Category: Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Aunt May Is Awesome, Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Partners in Crime, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Good Bro, Sick Character, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Sneaking Around, Spidey-pool prompts, Tumblr Prompt, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug, Wade Wilson has feelings, Wade Wilson is a Good Bro, a bit - Freeform, kind of?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-04-11 12:06:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19109320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_beginning/pseuds/just_beginning
Summary: It was an accident at first, but Aunt May knows Wade Wilson.  She's known him all along, really.  In one way or another..Inspired from Prompt: "Five Times May thought Peter and Wade were just close friends, and one time Aunt May realized they were a little too close to be friends."





	1. Always

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so, I fell IN LOVE with the fact that 'Into the Spiderverse' Aunt May was voiced by Lily Tomlin, so I'm pretty sure she's my Aunt May now and forever.  
> You needn't agree, that's just a glimpse into my mind, and it fits for my little world because Peter's in his early/mid twenties.

Peter’s breaths are short and shallow.He’s trying to be careful, really he is, but each inhale and exhale hurts and sparks pain through his chest.In fact his whole right side feels like it’s on fire.It’s not, though - _Stark has assured him that the suit is fireproof, and he may or may not have already tested this_. 

For science. 

But being bowled-over by some Juggernaut wannabe sure makes him wish there was a fire to put out instead.He’s going to need to track this guy down again once he heals up, but tonight he just has to get the hell out of dodge.It’s definitely slow going, but Wade is off making a distraction of himself so he should have a little time.

“Mmmm,” Peter grinds his teeth together and crosses the street to the next sidewalk, and every bit counts so this is good. “Woooo...”

He exhales deeply and limps his way along as lightly as possible. He has his good arm wrapped around his middle to try to hold the aching side of his chest, but it doesn’t seem to be making much of a difference to his clearly broken ribs.

He’s going to have to be careful about those. 

He wishes he didn’t know that but, alas, here he is. 

He sticks close to each building he passes, where there are plenty of shadows to tuck into.When he reaches a bodega that has a nook of a doorway, he nestles into it to hide. He makes himself as small as possible so any car that happens to pass won’t be able to catch sight of him, and then he can concentrate only on breathing.In and out.That’s it.In and out. He just needs to rest for a few minutes, to take some of the weight off his battered half...then he can get moving again. 

Yup.That’s what he will do. 

This isn’t even as bad as when he’d gotten stabbed.The time he’d dislocated his hip had also been more painful, and he’d had to drag himself along the floor of an alley before calling for some assistance at that point.Yes, this could be worse. 

Unfortunately, that doesn’t actually make him feel any better. It’s still difficult to breathe.His shoulder is still dislocated.He still needs to favor his left leg. He’ll heal, though; he always heals. 

He heals.He heals.He heals. 

He tips his head backwards and rests his eyes to concentrate on this.To focus on the fact that he’ll be alright.He just needs to hold on, to get home and wait it out. 

After the breather, he levies himself off of the store’s door and eases his way back out onto the sidewalk proper.He’s still several blocks from home, and he’s just going to have to hope that he’ll get some kind of second wind if someone spots him and he needs to run.Adrenaline, that’s what he needs.One big burst of it...

Instead, he takes another break. He stumbles into the mouth of the next alley and braces himself against the uneven brick with his good arm.Then be plunks his head onto the wall, too. 

Briefly, he imagines ordering an Uber.What are the chances he could get a driver who would be chill about giving Spider-man a ride? Probably zero, and even if were a good idea he is out of luck - _his phone is good and trashed_.At least he’s working full-time for Stark, now, so he’ll be able to afford a replacement without ruining his budget. That’s a pretty good feeling. 

Peter coughs, and his knees buckle from the resulting flare of pain.Groaning, he digs his gloved fingers against the wall. 

He’s gotta go. 

He really needs to keep moving. 

He doesn’t.Not yet.His pelvis throbs heavily, and he gives a dry little sob.He’s definitely not going to cry, though.Never mind that the mask would hide it. 

He can move. He _will_ move.Slow and steady is good; slow and steady could make it.Eventually.

 

“Looky, looky -- a little Spidey!” 

The fact that Deadpool sounds so cheerful when he shows up is a little annoying, but his familiar voice is nevertheless a blessing to hear. Peter sags in relief. Belatedly, he realizes he’s holding his breath.He lets it out slow and shaky.

“How ya feeling, baby boy?” he hears the merc’s boots crunching into the alley. 

“...like I tried to catch the train in the stupidest way,” Peter mumbles to the brick, his head still drooped forward on the wall. 

“Aw, well, ya gotta be smarter than that,” Wade keeps up a commentary as he smooths a hand between the smaller man’s shoulders. 

Peter stiffens and his breath hitches when Wade’s hand makes it to his injured shoulder. He knows what the other man is going to do and, to be honest, doesn’t much want to be a part of it.

“Wait -” he protests purely on instinct. 

“Let me do it,” Wade’s chiding is light, but he doesn’t stop moving his hand up so he can skim his fingers along Peter’s collar and prod at his shoulder.“Gonna let me fix it?” he doesn’t have to give the diagnosis because Peter already knows. 

Peter nods and pulls his good arm down so he can prop himself on the wall and bite his wrist at the same time. It’s not his first dislocated shoulder; he’s not some noob.He’s should just be glad to have the help so he doesn’t have to jerk it around into place on his own.Yes. This will be better.Easier. 

“Yeah?” he can feel Wade shifting behind him. 

“Mmhmm...”

“Yeah?” Wade braces his forearm behind Peter’s shoulder blades nice and slow, easy despite what he needs to do. 

“Jus’ do it,” Peter hisses around a mouth full of his own wrist because damn-   _d_ _o the dang thing, yeah?_

“Ain’t no need to rush, baby boy,” even now Wade sounds perfectly pleasant, though he surely isn’t going to leave Peter stuck and broken like this. “We just gotta t--”

“Mmmffff!” Peter’s shout is muffled when Wade abruptly presses against him and grabs his upper arm tightly to crank it hard like a pro. 

Like he’s done this before. 

He’s definitely done this before. 

Peter’s knees buckle again, but Wade fists the fabric on his back to keep him up.He grabs his waist lightly, too, in order to steady him until the light-headed rush passes. 

“Thanks,” the young man pants. “Thanks...” 

“Yup,” Wade rubs a gentle touch over the shoulder he’s just re-set. “Ready to move?Gotta get you inside...” 

Peter nods because, yup, Wade’s making perfect sense, but he doesn’t move right away.He’s trying to focus on the fact that his shoulder does already feel a bit better now that it’s back where it belongs.It’s not the whole solution, but it’s a step in the right direction. 

“...what else did he get?” 

Peter has to replay that question to really understand it before straightening up. 

“My thigh and my hips hurts ...definitely broke some ribs...” he shares softly like he doesn’t want anyone else to know, and maybe he doesn’t. 

Wade’s hands move gently, yet firmly, down his right side, now.His touch is clinical and Peter understands it’s the right thing to do; they need to be sure it’s nothing too serious.Even so, he has a childish desire to bat the larger man’s hands away, to hide from the hurt.That makes him feel ridiculous and small, and tears bloom around his eyes again.He pushes it all down for later.Because repression is always good, right?

“Alright, I gottchu ...it’s going to hurt, but it’ll be easier...”

And despite a halfhearted protest, Wade scoops Peter up bridal style ...and without even making the easy joke about it.The jostling around is painful, but once he’s settled, with his good side pressed against Wade’s chest, it is admittedly better than walking had been.The main drawback is that the position feels like it’s reinforcing Peter’s feelings of being small and useless.So it’s good for the body, bad for the ego.

He should be big enough not to mind.He almost is. 

Whether Wade can sense this or he’s just generally restless about the evening, he keepsup a steady stream of colorful chatter going about how he lost The Rhino - _yeah, Rhino, because NYC is great -_ as he treads sidewalks and cuts through alleys. 

Wade knows, in general, where Peter is currently living.He has guesstimated based on places he and Spidey have met up and the direction he’s always coming from.He has the skill set to find out exactly where he lives, of course.

He knows that.

Peter knows that. 

He’s just never had a real need, and it’s been something of a hard limit for the younger man even as other bits of privacy have fallen by the wayside.He might have been offended except that Wade knows Spidey doesn’t live alone and that he’s fiercely protective of the Aunt he had moved back in with after graduating college.Wade’s never been much of a family man himself, but he can respect that. 

Plus, Peter has so far trusted Wade with his name and his face, and that’s a bigger show of friendship than Wade normally gets these days. That’s significant enough that Wade doesn’t really care if they only lounge around at his own apartment. It does present a bit of a problem just now, though...

“Alright, you gotta point the way now, Petey,” Wade prompts gently once he knows he’s in the right neighborhood. 

He keeps his tone gentle because Peter’s been trying and failing to smother sounds of discomfort.It’s been quite a while since broken bones have posed an extended problem for Wade, but he can sympathize anyway. 

“Down the block on the corner,” Peter peeks around for a moment before he can orient himself to answer. “My room’s around the back...” 

That’s convenient for a Spider.Wade idly wonders what Peter would’ve been doing all his teen years if his bedroom window had faced the street ...maybe he’d have had to sneak out of the bathroom and a lot of bathroom breaks would wind up lasting for hours while he snuck out. Potty-Man isn’t dignified, but it has a certain ring to it.

“Which one?” Wade starts eyeing fire escapes and figuring how he’ll haul Peter up. 

“I can get it from here.Thanks, Wade...” Peter shifts and tries to get autonomy of his legs. 

Wade scowls through his mask. 

“Think again, Bug-Brain.”

“Wade -”

The larger man secures his hold of Peter’s legs, though he knows full well Peter can break it if he decides to. 

“Shove it, Parker,” he orders with authority anyhow. “I won’t come back here if you don’t want, but you don’t get to hurt yourself over _this_ , of all fucking things.” 

It’s hard to tell exactly through the mask, but the way Peter sets his shoulders and glances away suggests he’s ashamed.And, yeah, maybe there had been a little venom in the comment, some hurt. Wade isn’t trying to be selfish and choose this poor moment to air annoyances, but surely Peter knows this doesn’t have to be a big deal.He’s trusted Wade this far, and he should be able to trust Wade not to fuck anything up or take advantage of what he’s about to learn. 

“You’re right ...three up; two over...” 

Wade clocks the window. There’s a soft glow beyond it like Peter’s left a little lamp on to welcome himself home, and, shit, yeah, that sounds just like the kind of thing Peter would do.  


 

Indeed, after much care and some grunting and cursing, Wade’s shoving up the window in question to see there is a small yellow desk light on. 

“C’mon...alright...” Wade leaves Peter in the window sill, slips in to kneel on the bed inside, and then helps Peter in, too. 

Right away he can see how Peter relaxes just from being in this room.It’s probably the most familiar space he knows.The visceral nature of the reaction makes him grin, and he sort of loves that Peter was raised in a place that makes him feel that way. 

“I have never said these words in a less sexy way, but how do we get you out of this thing?” Wade checks once he sits Peter on the edge of his mattress. 

Peter tugs his mask off, and that part Wade could have done on his own because he’s seen it countless times before.Then the guy simply presses the middle of the spider on his chest, and it’s like the whole suit deflates and goes loose on him so he can slip it off. 

“What the shit?!” Wade’s own suit seems suddenly inadequate.“That’s how you do it?You bastard; that was so easy... “

Peter grins tiredly, his face a little paler than usual from the sickly pain. 

“Shhh,” he pats a hand against Wade’s mouth.“You should be better friends with Tony; he’ll help you out...” 

“Probably not gonna happen, pal...” disappointed but still impressed, Wade starts shimmying the lax material away to gently strip him.

He recognizes the part of him that really wishes his first time doing this could be much more about sex and much less about pain, but he shunts the lecherous thought aside.Peter needs him, and not like that.Not tonight, anyway.Wade thinks he sees what’s coming for them, feels that he’s not just suffering from a flighty, one-sided wish - _because, yeah, that’s the kind of thing that happens to him._ He can play a slow game, though; he can wait it out and see what, if anything, happens. 

“Alright,” he tosses the suits aside before he rests back on his haunches. “Just breathe easy; in and out...”

It’s with a professional eye that he watches Peter’s ribcage expand and contract a few times, making sure one side matches the other.He can manhandle wounded-Pete to the hospital if he needs to, though this would inevitably raise more questions than either of them want...

 

Unbeknownst to them, down the hall May Parker has already stirred and gotten up from bed to use the bathroom.She’s mentally berating her unreliable bladder when she hears somewhat of a commotion in Peter’s room.It’s no shock since she’s no fool; she knows what her nephew gets up to at night.And yet ...she has a feeling...

 

“I think you’re good, Petey,” Wade nods his decision and stands up to help lay Peter down.“You got pain meds and ice packs?Or sh--”

“Oh shit!” Peter stiffens and sits back up against Wade’s guiding hands. 

Wade initially assumes this is a pain reaction until he hears the door behind him creak open.He twists, trying to think what threat could be in the apartment, but then spots the old woman now framed in the door.He knows right away who this must be, and he yanks his hands off of Peter to hold up in innocence. 

“Aunt May ...” Pete wheezes. “I’m fine...” 

The room echos with the silence of that lie for a few impossibly long moments while his Aunt assesses the scene.Wade knows what he must look like, strapped with weapons and caught with his hands on her injured nephew, but the window is still open if she starts screaming. He can dive out. Easy escape. 

On the contrary, once the old bird pulls herself together she just takes another step in with concern rather than away with fear.

Alright, damn. Fucking noted. 

“We have Ibuprofen and ice,” she offers, proving herself an eavesdropper.

“Good,” Wade looks from her and back to Peter, who gives a small nod and closes his eyes because, yeah, this whole night has really gotten away from them and there’s just no un-ringing the bell. “Handful of pills and ...probably all of the ice?” he looks back to the woman. 

She still has a curious eyebrow raised like she’s making a list of questions to grill her nephew with, but she nods and moves off to fetch these things. 

“Want me to bail?” Wade returns to helping Peter lay back, and he would rather see this through but it will be easy to slip out now before Auntie returns. 

“Nah.Could you help her?” his voice is tight, and Wade can see his jaw clench after he asks, like is costs him something to say or maybe he’s embarrassed.

“Sure...” 

Supposing that elderly women don’t like to be snuck up on in the middle of the night by masked strangers, Wade makes unnecessary noise on the way out of Peter’s room to help.Ms. Parker is at the freezer pulling out some bags of peas and corn, but she does glance round at his clumsy approach. 

“...first aid kit's in the hall closet.Pills and more ice packs should be in there.”

She’s factual, if not overly warm, which is frankly kinder than Wade would be to an unknown visitor.He doesn’t test his luck by saying anything in return, just moves off to find said closet and med kit. He grabs a fist full of pill packets and the cold-packs, and he’s sure to tuck everything neatly back onto the shelf where he found it. When he returns to Peter’s bedroom, May is already there with the frozen veggies and a glass of water. 

“I got him...”

He drops his findings on the bed and moves towards the head of it to help prop Peter up so he can take the glass and May can start ripping open packets of bills.She does so quietly, dumping them into Peter’s waiting hand two at a time for him to swallow down.They’re wordless, like this has happened before. 

Surely it has.

Peter teams up with the Avengers sometimes and so has access to Stark’s medical facilities if he needs them, but Wade is 110% sure he’s dragged himself home in need of basic first aid before.Peter’s overly-strong and extra durable, so Wade’s never really thought of that before.His estimation of May Parker grows as he watches her continue opening meds without batting an eye. 

Her long, gray hair is wavy and long; a little wild from sleep.She’s wearing some sort of long nightgown with a patterned, thin housecoat that seems ...bohemian.Wade’s not sure if she actually looks like an art teacher or if he only thinks so because Peter had mentioned at some point that she is one..Peter has also called her a “total hippie” and Wade thinks he can see that, too.He has the unverifiable feelings that she knows her way around a bong ...but, again, that’s probably because Peter says she claims she was at Woodstock. Okay, fine; he makes a mental note that he needs to meet homegirl under normal circumstances and gather more intel for an objective opinion. 

“That should be enough,” Peter eventually decides and waves a hand at the remaining packets in his Aunt’s hand. 

Wade helps him lay back down again slowly while May pulls one of Peter’s thin blankets up over him.Then she’s laying the frozen, malleable veggies gently on Peter’s side.Wade makes himself busy cracking open the cold packs from the first aid kit, one of which he place over Peter’s shoulder and the other he carefully slides under Peter’s left hip. 

“I’ll be alright,” Peter promises, and Wade sees he’s staring at his Aunt, whose mouth is a thin line. 

“I know,” she forces her lips into a half-genuine smile and brushes some of Peter’s dark, sweaty hair off of his forehead.“You always are, aren’t you?” 

“Always,” Peter tiredly confirms. 

Wade inexplicably feels like he’s witnessing something he’s not meant to be a part of, so he steps backwards towards the foot of the bed. 

“I’ll check in tomorrow, Spidey...”

Peter’s dark eyes snap to his. 

“Phone’s ruined...” he remembers aloud.

“Leave your window open, then?” he dares to ask because, yeah, he’d promised not to come back but, no, he doesn’t really want to sit around ignorant to Peter’s recovery. 

Peter seems to understand the significance as he stares at Wade, but Aunt May must not.That or she’s just quicker to decide she doesn’t care. 

“He will,” she nods emphatically.

Both men look to her.Wade’s white eyes widen in surprise.Peter just blinks slowly at her, but he shows no signs of outwardly disagreeing.Possibly because he genuinely agrees, but maybe he just refuses to argue with his Aunt.Either way it’s a win for Wade, even if he is aided by Peter being tired and suggestible to his kin. 

“Okay ...take it easy or I’ll beat the piss out of you,” he points a stern finger at the prone man. “I would never do that,” he adds in a whisper for the old woman’s benefit, and it might have only been his imagination that the corner of her mouth twitches.

He climbs onto the small wooden footrest of Peter’s bed to hoist himself over into the windowsill and out onto the fire escape. 

“Oh, wait,” he hears and ducks back in. “May Parker,” he finds a slim, bony hand extended to him across the bed. 

He stares at it, then up into her lined face.Then to Peter.Back to May.

“Wilson,” he carefully swallows her hand in his larger, gloved one and gives it a shake. 

Her grip is firmer than he would have guessed, and he momentarily pictures her throttling him with her spindly little grip for nearing her boy. Then he eyes her crows-feet and deep laugh lines and figures he’s safe. 

“Thank you, Mr. Wilson...” 

_Mr. Wilson._ He doesn’t like that one bit but doesn’t want to start a whole thing.He can be Mr. Wilson for now; he’ll ask Peter to correct her later. 

“Always,” he gives a brief nod and then retreats for real.

 

May Parker watches him go with a thoughtful look until she’s just staring at a dark window after the man has closed it behind him.Then she looks back at her Peter, whose eyes are only half open. 

“I didn’t know you had friends out there on normal nights,” she smiles softly for his benefit and fusses over the blanket under all of his ice packs, tucking it a bit higher to his neck. 

“Sometimes...” 

“Well you should have told me. I’m glad for it,” she’s insistent on the matter. 

“It’s ...complicated.” 

“Hmm,” she only tuts. “Well he brought you home in one piece, and that’s not complicated.”

“It is, though,” he’s arguing but his eyes are now closed, so, really, she’s won. 

“I’ll check on you in a couple hours,” she promises quietly and backs out herself. 

As she does she glances at theonly window in Peter’s room, the one he usually sneaks in and out of so stealthily.May doesn’t like finding strangers in her apartment after midnight and hopes not to do so again; then again, she’s quite pleased to know Peter wasn’t out there alone on a night like this. 

She smiles. 

Wilson.Alright, then. 


	2. I Wish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think I’m a little in love with her,” Wade confesses, which is true and hopefully not super weird.

**** “No, cut it out,” Peter covers Aunt May’s hand as she reaches into her small purse.“Have a nice day,” he waves to the Uber driver and slams the door to the dude could be on his way. 

“Well, that was very rude,” the woman thoroughly disapproves of her nephews choices since she is the one who had taught him better.She sure hope she taught him better. “You’re supposed to tip drivers.” 

“I know, but this isn’t a cab,” Peter educates her patiently becaues she’s reminded him many times that old people can’t help that they’re old, _and don’t forget I taught you how to tie your shoes, sir_.“I can tip him on the app,” he fishes his phone from his pocket to wave it around. 

“Hmm,” she eyes the device in a mistrustful sort of way as they tread along the sidewalk towards his building.“That seems cold...” 

“It’s money either way, isn’t it?” 

“I guess, but everything happening online and through screens just isn’t right ...oh, who am I talking to?You practically grew up on a computer,” she complains like she isn’t in love with the online grading and attendance system her school uses, or like she doesn’t enjoying finding old friends on the Facebook account Peter helped her set up. 

“It’s supposed to be a convenience and a safety feature, you know - less chance of getting robbed if you don’t have cash on you,” he maintains his argument as he pulls open the door of his building for her. 

Because, yes, she had taught him better.

“Oh ...oh that’s kind of smart,” May concedes after a moment of thought. 

Peter chortles and hurries in after her so he can shove his finger at the elevator buttons to take them up to his apartment.He’s actually a little nervous, though he has no reason to be.She has been to his place before,  just not since shortly after he’d moved in and had barely had it furnished. Not that it’s a huge place that can fit a ton of things, but he’d hardly had more than a bed (aka: a mattress on the floor) when he’d first moved in.Aunt May had supported the idea of his moving out and being more independent once he’d had the money saved up for it, but she had not liked seeing him with so little. 

The studio apartment is much cozier, now.Not everything is new, but she won’t mind that.Aunt May approves of thrift stores and repurposing items; improving, she calls it _\- exercising artistic license._ So, anyway, he is happy to bring her over after they had dinner at her favorite Mexican restaurant. 

Just ...also anxious.But in a good, kind of a giddy, way.

 

“You don’t talk about your neighbors,” Aunt May muses when they get off the elevator and head down his hall. “Are they nice?” 

“They’re fine; not as nice as yours...” 

That is perfectly true.Aunt May has lived in the same apartment since Peter was little and has had some of the same neighbors for over ten years. She is warm and extroverted, so she endears herself to almost everyone, whereas Peter is a kind but quiet neighbor. 

“Oh, bring them gifts around the holidays; get to know them...” 

“I know them; I’ve met them,” Peter shrugs.“It’s fine...”

In his defense, he does know names and faces.He’s confident someone would care, or at least notice, if he went MIA and his apartment started to smell funny.And he has to walk a fine line, after all.He wants to be friendly, but he doesn’t want to stick out.He’s got plenty to hide and there’s no need to have someone poking around too close. 

He rifles through his keys to shove the right one in the door.It takes a little wiggling, but he’s got it down to a science so he’s pushing his way in shortly. 

As soon as the door is halfway open he spots Wade in jeans and a hoodie, slouched on his couch with his legs spread wide and comfortable.

Wade turns to grin. 

Peter’s eyes go wide. 

“Here we are, Aunt May,” he says loudly, even though it’s not particularly natural to address her by name just now _\- who the hell else would he be talking to_.

 

This isn’t all that strange of a sight, honestly.Now that Peter has his own place, he’s been able to return the open invitation Wade’s always extended for the use of his pad; Wade is essentially free to come by as he pleases.Not that Peter is getting careless or anything, he’s just less anal and protective since he’s not sharing his space with Aunt May. 

But now this is happening, and Peter isn’t sure what’s next.He’s not mad, but he hadn’t planned on explaining a man who feels comfortable hanging around his home when he’s not there.

_‘Oh, he’s saved my life several times!’_

_‘We run around at night together, and I may be curious to see him naked? No biggy!’_

_‘You met him last Fall; remember the guy in the mask?’_

_‘Yes, the one with all the weapons -- see?You remember.”_

“Oh...” his Aunt stops at his shoulder, and Peter mouths a quick ‘sorry’ to Wade, who’s straightened right up.“Hello... ....”

She seems hesitant, which is fair.Peter hadn’t told her anyone would be around.Plus, if you don’t know him, Wade without a mask is ...a surprise. 

“Hi,” Wade rises respectfully to his feet. “Sorry; I didn’t know you were going to have company...”

“It’s fine; I told you to come over anytime,” Peter makes sure to say so Aunt May knows this isn’t entirely unexpected. 

“Right, uh ...hi,” he takes the initiative to move forward across the small living room and extend a hand to their elder.“Wade.Nice to meet you...” 

“You, too.I’m May,” her smile is as warm as always even as she shakes Wade’s scarred hand. 

She’s eyeing him openly, though not unkindly.And she looks ...thoughtful.Peter wonders if she recognizes Wade’s voice or if she’s maybe just admiring the colors and patterns of Wade’s skin.That’s exactly the kind of reaction her artist’s mind has to anything new or unusual.

“Peter’s Aunt,” Wade allows himself a false _ah-hah!_ moment. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“Oh?” she turns a precious little smile to Peter. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know I love you,” he rolls his dark eyes.

 

Wade chuckles at the exchange and takes in the lady’s loose, linen clothing and chunky jewelry.Yes, he thinks, the bohemian theme is definitely still there.He finds he likes that, though the free spirit it suggests doesn’t exactly jive with some of Peter’s squirrelier tendencies. 

“Well, I’m going to slip out, then ...I was just going to rope you into some Mortal Kombat,” he nods vaguely towards Peter’s TV, which isn’t as large as Wade’s but, according to Peter, is still perfectly nice, t _hank you very much_ , “but we can go at it any time.”

“I’m not staying long; there’s no need go and leave,”May insists with an apologetic edge to her voice. “Stay.I like to meet Peter’s friends...” 

“No, no - I don’t mind,” Wade shakes his head and continues edging for the door. “Nice to meet you ...later, Pete,” he bows out, mouths his own ‘sorry’ back to Peter, and disappears out the doorway. 

“I’m sorry,” Aunt May sighs and turns to Peter. 

“Don’t worry; he’s always a little edgy about new people,” Peter promises her, and it’s not a total lie. 

Wade is cocky as hell in his Deadpool leathers, but you can never guess exactly what you are going get when he doesn’t at least have a mask on.Certainly he is more prone to insecurity, but that can manifest itself in different ways.He hadn’t specifically seemed upset being caught unawares just now, though, so Peter isn’t worried. 

“I understand.What happened?” May turns to him with sad but expectant eyes. 

Peter has, of course, always loved and respected his Aunt very deeply.The fact that she’s standing there asking this with sympathy and concern rather than any show of disgust only reminds him why. 

“...just a really bad accident.”

Lie.What had happened to Wade hadn’t been accidental at all and Peter knows it.He only knows some of the details.Most of the truth.Probably. 

In any case, it had been horrible.Aunt May doesn’t need to know that; she’s already so worried about what Peter does and sees on a regular basis. Knowing that one of his friends, someone like him, endured something so terrifying ...well, yeah, she just doesn’t need to hear about it.

“One you saved him from?” she continues curiously. 

“I wish,” Peter mutters this before realizing it’s more ominous than explanatory.“I mean, no; its was before I knew him.It’s a long story ...go ahead and look around; I thought you were here to snoop.”

“There are different kinds of snooping,” she gives him a knowing wink but does hustle around to take a good look at every nook and cranny and question where he got everything.

 

Once she’s looked and asked her fill, Peter slips out his phone to order an Uber to get her back home.She argues, of course; she says a taxi is just as good to her.But she can’t stop him, and then t _he driver’s already on their way and it would be rude to cancel, wouldn’t it, Aunt May_?

“Are you going to call your friend back?” she asks while they’re waiting down at the front door by the mailboxes. 

“Uh...maybe,” Peter thinks Wade might’ve headed back home, or perhaps to Sister Margaret’s. 

He could go there to join if he wants.It’s not really his scene, but Wade has made it clear he has a blanket invitation.Weasel had agreed to that, and Peter likes Weasel despite the lackluster name. 

“You should.I apparently ruined a nice afternoon of mindless violence,” she doesn’t like video games much, but she does like Peter having friends. 

Especially after him being such a quiet kid.He has a few close friends who he’s stayed in contact with, sure, but growing one’s circle is good.It makes her happy to know he has made a home others can feel comfortable in.Plus, so far as she’s concerned at the moment, more friends outside of his Avengers associations can only be positive and normalizing. She wants him to have options. 

“Not every video game is violent,” Peter promises, and not for the first time. 

“So you say ...” she spares him the next argument about how it’s good to get out in actual fresh air with actual flesh and blood people. 

He gets plenty of fresh air when he’s swinging through the city, and frankly he meets more people than he wants to while either arresting or saving them. Aunt May knows this, but he won’t throw it in her face. 

“Wade seems nice.” 

“Yeah,” Peter agrees even though the jury of his peers is still out on using that word to describe Wade Wilson.“I’ll call him...”

 

As it turns out, he needs to do no such thing.  Peter’s hardly back in his apartment for five minutes before there’s a knock on his kitchen window, and Wade is crouched on the fire escape when he comes out from his bathroom.

“Hey,” he lifts the window even though Wade could have done it on his own. 

“Hi ...sorry to crash the family reunion,” the older man looks a little sheepish. 

“You didn’t; she just came to check things out and decide if she approves of my place.She worries, you know? ...you really could have stayed,” Peter’s suddenly not sure if he had told Wade this earlier or if he’d only let his Aunt make the reassurances. 

“Eh,” Wade shrugs in a way that is wary and disconcerting.“She’s just as sweet in the day as she is at 2:30am,” he grins anyway. 

Auntie M hadn’t exactly been chummy the last time he’d met her, and for good reason, but he hasn’t forgotten that she was gracious in the end.Despite the tense night and regardless of whatever her assumptions of him had probably been, she had been thankful and kind.Not to mention a bit of a doll just now. She’d hardly batted an eye at him.

“I think I’m a little in love with her,” he confesses, which is true and hopefully not super weird. 

Peter snorts, so he’s likely out of the woods. 

“Everyone is ...come on in,” Peter steps back so Wade can climb across the wink and get inside.

“Yeah?” the older man’s admittedly thrown by the afternoon’s surprise.

“Course,” Peter snorts again.“May thinks video games will melt my brain, but I’m pretty sure I’m safe...” 

Chuckling, Wade slips inside and troops back to the couch he’d vacated so quickly earlier.Peter joins him once he goes to change into some loose pajama pants, and all is normal.Considering he’d half-expected to be told off for being there earlier, Wade doesn’t even mind the way Peter hunkers in at the end of the couch and gives him little kicks with his heel whenever he’s winning.It’s an unfair attack given that Peter hates how sensitive his feet are and won’t stand to be touched there, but Wade isn’t easily distracted. 

“Can’t stop me, Web Boy,” he growls and dodges a light kick with his elbow and doesn’t even miss a beat. 

“Damn it...”

Hells yeah. 

 


	3. Not on my account

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter decides he’ll allow Wade exactly one rude comment since May is pressing. Just one. It feels fair.

Once Aunt May sees Peter’s basically complete apartment and can tell he’s more proud of it, she thinks it’s time to stop by more often.Sometimes just for a hello if she’s nearby, sometimes to bring treats or leftovers since cooking for one in surprisingly hard after all these years, and sometimes to stick around and spend some time.Peter insists it’s not a bother for him to come to their old apartment, which he still does sometimes, but May is equally as persistent that she doesn’t mind.She says she likes feeling as comfortable in his new home as he does in the one they’d shared, which ...makes sense. 

It’s just that he gets around easier and quicker, but he can’t bring himself to actually say that to her face.For obvious reasons. 

So when she’s feeling the need for a lazy afternoon of movie watching, she comes right on over.As soon as Peter sees the movies she brought, he knows why she hasn’t decided to stay in and curl up on her own couch. She’s holding all science fiction selections, and those aren’t her usual cup of tea. 

No, these are the types of movies he and Uncle Ben had always enjoyed; his uncle had brought Peter up in the classics.May would join them occasionally, but mostly just to be with them rather than her own fascinations.

So Peter knows she’s feeling some kind of way.Not sad enough to want to talk about it, which Peter is relieved for. Of course he can talk to May about anything, but he’s still not great at putting words to how he feels about getting robbed of a second father figure; it will never feel fair. No, she’s just feeling sentimental, and Peter can easily meet her there.It’s easiest to remember Uncle Ben in the fun and the everyday things they had enjoyed together; he feels nice to mention, then.It’s the grief itself and the feelings of anger and guilt surrounding what happened to him that Peter doesn’t like to poke at too much. 

So they start with _‘_ Close Encounters of the Third Kind,’ which May actually kind of likes even if she does find the concept overwhelming.Then they move on to _‘_ Tron,’ and that’s the sort of flick Peter likes more. 

“You’re into technology; aren’t you supposed to expect better graphics?” she harrumphs between mouthfuls of popcorn _\- extra butter, thank you very much._

“You just gotta appreciate it for what it is,” Peter keeps his eyes on the screen and will not be pulled into a debate on this fact ...again. 

*BANG*BANG*BANG*BANG*BANG*

Both couch occupants jerk when someone absolutely pounds on the door, and Peter’s on his feet in the next instant.He blinks, then crosses the room without a look to his startled Aunt.She had taught him long ago to always check the peephole before opening a door, so habit makes him do it now.He’s pretty sure he doesn’t need the precaution anymore, what with the enhanced strength and reflexes _\- a lot of cocky talk, May says, for someone who still manages to get hurt._ In any case, all he finds is a civvies-clad Wade Wilson on the other side of the door.At least that explains the suspiciously quiet Spidey-sense.Perhaps he’d subconsciously recognized the man’s gate without even processing that he was hearing it. 

“Hey, W-” he twists the lock and unlatches the door, which immediately thrusts open when the mercenary shoves his way in.“Are-” he begins but is cut off by the other man.

“I’m -” Wade cuts himself off, too, and freezes once he’s done a visual sweep of the room. “Aw, fuck...” 

With that, he twists sharply on his heel and strides right back out the door that Peter is still holding open. The younger man blinks and then reaches for Wade’s coat sleeve, but he just misses. 

“Umm, sorry Aunt May....just hold on...”

“Uh-huh,” she looks a little alarmed but mostly calm while she picks up the remote to pause the movie. 

Dismissed, Peter darts out the doorway.Wade’s long legs have already carried him down the hall; he’s nearing the stairwell. 

“Hold on, Wade ... wait!” he scrambles after him. 

Surprisingly, he does so.Wade jolts to a stop a few feet shy of the end of the hall and turns a grim face back to Peter. 

“Hey ...what’s wrong?” he slows his approach once he’s clear he’s not going to have to chase Wade down the stairs. 

Sure, it was a race he could have easily won, but it’s nice that Wade’s not actively retreating.He’s stopping.He’s waiting.  That means something.Or Peter hopes it means something. Whichever.

“What happened?” 

“Nothing happened,” Wade answers a little too quickly to be believable. 

Which is a sign in and of itself because Wade is more socially aware than he likes to let on.He often puts on a goofy show, but anyone who cares to look will see him talks himself into and out of just about anything he pleases.

He’s shifty now, though. 

“Then why did you take off?”

Never mind asking about why he bustled in like a bat out of hell in the first place because that had actually been more alarming.One thing at a time. 

“Your aunt,” Wade thrusts a finger back toward the apartment. 

“Doesn’t mind,” Peter finishes for him.“We’re just watching a movie ...and if you make fun of me for having movie night with my aunt, I’ll push you down the stairs. “

He won’t.  
_Probably_. 

“Are you kidding me?” the taller man snorts unattractively.You’re aunt’s a goddamn angel on a fluffy cloud -- no judgement here,” his eyes dart around the hall while he prattles, not meeting Peter’s eye. 

Peter beams at this, pleased with the assessment.Then he straightens his face right up because he remembers Wade hasn’t actually answered. 

“Look, you came to hang out, right? Come on back...” 

“I came to hang,” Wade confirms with a slow nod.“Maybe rant...”

“Okay ... ....about what?Aunt May is a good listener, and if you’re worked up again about the fact that Inception is probably a real thing that’s already happening-- she actually has some thoughts of her own on that same thing...” he tries to ease the mood. 

Peter doesn’t like conspiracies himself; he likes to poke holes in them.Both to exercise logic and because he doesn’t _want_ to believe in any more lies and treachery than he has to.Aunt May thinks they are fun to humor.Wade actually believes a lot of them and has some unfortunately good reasoning behind his claims, though he doesn’t actually seem troubled about any of it.Just knowing. 

“Of course she does,” Wade doesn’t look surprised and gives a firm nod.“But no ...” 

The taller man folds his arms over his chest tightly and stares towards the ground. His face is furious and his body’s practically vibrating with ...something that is poking at Peter’s spidey-senses.Something that’s not normally there, something rare on Wade. First he thinks it’s anxiety, but that can’t be right - _numerous things get Wade edgy_. 

Then Peter realizes it’s fear.

And there’s not a lot of things that outright scare Wade. Wade says it’s because he knows he can’t die so being afraid of most things is pointless.So options are very limited here, and Peter swiftly makes a mental list. 

“Do ...you need Spider-man?” Peter checks. 

Wade’s jaw clenches and he shakes his head.He doesn’t speak, so Peter resigns himself to the guessing game.

“Just tell me if something happened...”

Wade shook his head. 

“...is something _going_ to happen?”

“Something’s always going to happen, Parker,” Wade answers with a petulance that sounds forced rather than enthusiastic. 

“Are you fighting with Cable? Or Weasel?” that throws him off, sometimes; Wade’s circle is small, and he likes to keep it a certain way. 

“Haven’t seen ‘em...” 

“Okay... .... did you have a nightmare?” 

Wade has already confessed, in dark early morning hours, to having nightmares.First when they’d been sitting on a rooftop, their legs dangling loosely while the slammed donuts,and Wade had carefully stared off into the inky night while he talked about it.Peter had allowed that avoidance, though he’d found it unnecessary.After all, Wade had only mentioned his night terrors after Peter had told him he stays out later on patrols when he can’t stop thinking about Gwen and all the fear and guilt that came along with her. Tit for tat, sort of.It had all seemed very fair to Peter, but Wade had still had a hard time speaking of it. Which is fine. 

Wade somehow manages to tighten his folded arms further.

“...yeah.Crashed this morning after a job...”

It means something to Peter thatWade admits this. 

“Alright ...alright, come on.You’re coming in...” Peter takes his elbow to start guiding him along because, in his mind, it’s decided. 

“I can’t do that...” Wade yanks his arm back.

“Do?You don’t have to _do_ anything.Just shove popcorn in your face and watch the movie,” Peter already knows Wade to be highly capable of both of these things. 

“Fuck off; you know what I mean,” Wade glares. 

In fact, Peter does not know what he means. 

It’s not strange for Wade to get amped up; he’s quick to both anger and excitement in turn. What’s a little more rare is the desire to go silent and secret.Peter is the more introverted one, so he understands the comfort in internalizing.Wade, however, acts out negativity; jokes, anger, yelling, fighting, insulting, etcetera, etcetera.The tight lips, clenched jaw, and wrapped arms are fairly atypical for him.Peter is not well-versed in this aspect of Wade yet.

“Come with me, instead,” Wade ticks his chin towards the stairs again. 

“To go where?” 

“ _Any_ fucking where...” 

So now Peter knows Wade doesn’t want to be alone, which is information he can use.And he will because who wants to choose between Wade Wilson and Aunt May. 

“I can’t leave Aunt May here; just come on...”

“I’m not good company right now, Pete,” Wade speaks quietly but evenly. 

But he _will_ stand to be with Petter, and that _means_ something.Peter knows it.It’s just that he’s in a bit of a bind here. He likes to help.He likes to fix. Choosing isn’t always his forte, though; he thinks too much and can usually find arguments for both sides of any debate.

“May’s having a day, too,” Peter sighs. 

He doesn’t much like rocks.Or hard places. 

“Fuck ...then, yeah, you oughtta stay...” Wade gives in to this bit of information. “Don’t worry, Pete,” he turns for the stairs once more.

“Damn it; wait,” Peter tilted his head forward in defeat.“Let me talk to May...” 

His Aunt was having a day, yes, but he had the clear impression Wade shouldn’t be on his own right now. If left to his own devices like this, he’ll surely go find trouble. 

“Pete...” 

“Just don’t sneak off.I’ll find you,” he warns, and they both know it’s true. 

Only after Wade nods his understanding of this does Peter shuffle back off to his apartment. He hesitates at the door because he’s never sent May away from his place, but she’ll understand. Probably.Or she’ll attempt to.Maybe he’ll go over tomorrow to make it up to her. 

“Hey,” he nudges the door open gently so as not to startle her. 

“Where did he go?” she looks a little worried and a little sorry. 

Of course she does; he’d basically inherited this bleeding heart of his from her.He might stress a little more than her, but this soft-heartedness is a thing she’d cursed him with.Or gifted him, depending on the day .

“Actually, he needs -”

“To relax,” Wade trudges up behind Peter and into the doorway. “I’m here...” 

“Oh,” Aunt May brightens, pulling her face up into something more neutral and welcoming.“Nice to see you again.” 

“You, too,” Wade musters a smile, never mind that Peter can see it’s not quite right. “Everybody’s having a fucking day, right?” he adds quietly to Peter when Peter raises an eyebrow at him. 

“Yeah,” Peter offers a lopsided grin.“Yeah, so come on in ...we’re watching ‘Tron’.” 

“So you’re both nerds...” Wade teases dispassionately while Peter waved him forward. 

“No just Peter...” May’s smile is deceptively sweet. 

Peter pulls a face at her behind Wade’s back.Wade drops onto the closest end of the couch to slouch down, and Peter decides not to heckle him into moving because that’s where _he’d_ been sitting.He’s just glad Wade’s sticking around.Whenever _not_ choosing is an option, that’s his first choice. 

And denial is just a river in Africa, or whatever. He doesn’t cares; he’s won. 

“Should we rewind?”

“We’re not that far in”

“Still...”

“Nah, not on my account,” Wade presses himself into the back of the couch.“I’ve seen it...”

And so they watch, quiet save for munching on popcorn and Wade’s occasional sigh or grumble. It’s mostly indistinct, and it’s not disrupting, so it’s mostly ignored. 

“Anybody else want more popcorn?” Peter scoops up the two bowls they’ve been passing around. 

“Oh, I’ve had enough salt...” 

“... ...Wade?” 

Wade jerks, suggesting he’d been thinking deeper than actually watching the movie’s progression. 

“Huh?” he grunts, face set deeply into a glower. 

“... ...you alright?”

Wade just stares at him for a few seconds, then straight back to the TV. 

“Should’ve brought my mask,” he tuts mostly to himself, but he should know by now that Peter hears nearly everything _\- more than he sometimes wants to, at any rate._

He sighs and engages, though he knows as soon as he opens his mouth that he shouldn’t do it. 

“You get that you’re not Frankenstein, right?” 

Wade looks at him again and his eyes narrow into something darker. Peter’s not scared of the look, per say, but he will be embarrassed if this starts a scene in front of Aunt May. 

“You mean Frankenstein’s monster,” Aunt May pipes in while she sips on her ice tea.“It’s a common mistake; no one seems to get it...” 

Wade eyes widen a bit in surprise and he swings his head towards May next. Peter’s spidey-sense gives an alert but non-actionable zing.As if he needs the reminder that this is prickly territory even on good days. 

But Wade only blurts a short, perhaps involuntary, laugh.

Peter smiles in relief at his Aunt and then hurries off to the kitchen to act like he hadn’t been prepared for that comment to blow up in her face. 

“Peter has a good point, though, you know,” she goes on, and Peter does go stiff again but he stays in the kitchen pretending to mind his own business while he jabs at the microwave buttons harder than strictly necessary. 

“He usually does,” Wade graciously concedes. 

“You want to hide your face, but your face will never make you a monster..” 

“May,” Peter does turn then with warning in his tone. 

She goes on anyhow, since Wade hasn’t stormed off. Which, frankly, is shocking.Peter knows exactly four people who’ve mentioned Wade’s looks out loud to his face, and half of them are in the room. 

“What?You know I’m right,” she waves a dismissive hand over her shoulder. “Your insides don’t have to hurt just because your outside does, you know?”

Peter decides he’ll allow Wade exactly one rude comment since May is pressing.Just one.It feels fair. 

But Wade just stares at her a little while. No new laugh bubbles out of him, but he’s also not glaring daggers at her. Or glaring katanas, rather, since this is Wade. 

“I hear what you’re saying and what Pete’s saying, Scout’s honor,” Wade finally responds, “ya know, if I’d been a Boy Scout.But it’s all just nice words, and they don’t match up with what I feel.*” 

Peter’s just about floored by that.It’s the most tranquil thing he’s ever heard Wade say on anything related to the topic of Weapon X.There hadn’t even been one profanity,and nothing morbid at all. 

_‘It was a fucking nightmare come to life!’_

_‘I was just a fucking slab of meat*, Spidey!’_

_‘Francis’s face was the best target practice I ever had!’_

Those were the kinds of things Peter has heard on the topic, the kind of anger this usually elicits from Wade. The self-restraint he is showing now is ...well ...astounding to Peter.And maybe that’s not fair, but it’s true. 

Wade’s surprising himself a bit with his level answers, too.Half of him is smoldering that a near-stranger feels entitled to address these things with him.The other half of him, the one that trusts Peter and is trying to do and be better, is actively smothering that flame.It’s only Aunt May.She’s being a bit bold, but not disrespectful, not cruel. And anyone who Peter trusts should get the benefit of the doubt. 

She’s still kind of great and all, but he does make a note to amend his earlier “fluffy cloud” assessment. 

Anyway, she’s not ...wrong. Not really. 

He is trying to be better, but it’s been a long time since he’s tried to be more than raw emotion and reaction.A few team-ups with the X-Men and yanking Peter into his life has helped, is letting him reacclimatize to what balance is.He’s not do-goody enough to stick permanently with Colossus or the surliest teenager on the planet, but he’s given himself back the power to be more discerning.It’s not quite enough for the X-Nerds, but it’s enough for Spidey so far and Wade cares more about that. 

Of course, it helps him that Francis is dead as fuck.He was never _not_ going to do that...

He grins darkly at this memory and May smiles back, clearly misreading his face. 

“I know,” she stands and heads to the kitchen, where Peter’s is now melting butter to add to the popcorn, damn gem that he is.“Do you have ice cream, Peter?” she opens the freezer without waiting for a response. 

“Uh-huh...” 

She yanks a pint of half-eaten pint out and then gets a spoon to bring both back to Wade. 

“Here you go ...it’s only a cliche because it’s true, dear.Science and all that - ask Peter,” she thrusts the ice cream and a spoon at the wallowing man. “Oh! And cookies ...Peter, you must have cookies, too, right?” 

She knows her nephew’s favorite snacks and his penchant for junk food _\- she knows she should blame herself for that one, but she’d fed him a fair share of veggies, too, you know_ .

“Yeah, they’re -” she’s already fished a pack of chocolate chip cookies from his cupboard when he looks away from the microwave. “Hey, not all of them!” 

“He needs them,” May completely ignores him. “They’re better than spoons...” 

“It’s science,” Wade adds with a bit of a sneer, accepting the cookies and let her take back the spoon from his hands. 

“...you know _I’m_ your flesh and blood, right? Not him,” Peter absolutely doesn’t know how he feels about her choosing someone else over him, even if it is an angst-filled Wade and he does deserve a god damn cookie.

“Yup,” May plops back down carelessly. 

Wade finds the way Peter sputters a little humorous despite his current disposition. To add insult to someone else’s injury, he tosses one of the cookies to May to share. 

His situation is darker than she could even imagine, and he’s far moodier than the allure of food can fix.Even so, the distraction she’s offering is surprisingly welcome.Anyway the sweets are fucking delicious - _she’s not wrong there._ Plus it gives him something to do with his hands rather than ball them into fists.He should grateful.Okay, he is grateful. 

He tosses another cookie over into her lap to prove this, and she snatches it up to nibble without comment.

* * *

After the ice cream is done and the movie is over, Aunt May lets Peter summon her an Uber.  She waves a short goodbye to Wade, and on the way out the door she actually asks Peter about what it will take to get the app on her own phone. 

“I hope you plan on giving me back my Aunt,” Peter gripes when he comes back upstairs and inside. 

“The ransom will be steep as fuck,” Wade responds blandly while he flicks through channels. 

“...you still wanna go somewhere?” 

“No”

“...you wanna talk about it?” 

“No”

“... ....do you feel any better?” 

“No”

“...you gonna stick around?” 

“Yup,” Wade switches things up a bit, and Peter smiles. 

He hops over his coffee table and flops onto the end of the couch. 

“Will it make you feel better or worse to go out on patrol tonight?” Peter thinks he could go either way because he’s learned, over time, that he does need to take days and nights off sometimes or he’ll go crazy. 

“...neither,” Wade has to think about this answer longer and feels nothing. 

“Let’s stay in,” Peter decides and kicks his bare feet straight up onto the coffee table.

Wade only grunts in response to this and clicks a few more channels before giving up.He drops onto his back, head rested on Peter’s thigh, and throws his arm over his eyes. 

It feels comfortable, though Peter isn’t sure exactly just what it means. He knows what it feels like ....seeking each other out, finding solace with one another, being as comfortable with silence as they are with banter. He’s felt this before, but it’s not something he and Wade have discussed directly.It’s just ...there.And comfortable. Sometimes he even forgets, sort of, but then there’s days like today when it pops up and stares him straight into the face. 

Significant days.Meaningful days. 

Peter plucks up the remote off of Wade’s chest and finds something he can get interested in since he’s apparently stuck here as Wade’s pillow now.They don’t talk.He just lets Wade sleep.Or not sleep.Whichever he chooses. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *quotes reworked a bit from Deadpool comics; can't remember the volume.


	4. No man left behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "...like she was a lion and I was only a feeble little gazelle!”
> 
> Peter snorts. Wade appreciates that he has trouble picturing him as a bony, helpless animal but come on know - he’s been called out.

“I know who you are”

Well, shit.Fuck. 

Wade blinks across the table at May Parker and wonders why he’s there, anyway. 

He’s sure he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing, which, believe it or not, is less common that a lot of people think. 

He knows he comes off as chaotic and unplanned, which: fair.He’s flexible enough to be spontaneous as a situation calls for it, but unpredictable doesn’t necessarily mean accidental.By in large, Wade Wilson has strategies.He’d been trained to have plans, alright.To reason the best entrance and egress points.To have a fallback plans, maybe multiple.To calculate trajectories.To recognizepriorities. To wait for the right moment and then strike hard.He’s several years separated from the military, but it’s engrained deep into him. 

But he hasn’t had to have a strategy for hanging out with May Parker purposefully. 

Before today he’d really only seen her on accident.That had never gone specifically poorly,but she also hadn’t seen him at his brightest or shiniest moments.That had made him feel a little shifty, like perhaps he ought to avoid her.Only now it’s Peter’s damn birthday.Wade had been promised that this was never a large affair, that Peter never wanted it to be, but Peter had invited him.

Then he’d immediately promised he did not need to come.

Despite the birthday boy’s airy insistence, Wade had not believed that it would be totes casual to skip.Peter had made it clear that birthday dinner was usually just he and May, but then he'd asked Wade to join, and that means something, right?Wade is sure that it’s significant, a new step. Although, to be fair, he has convinced himself of sillier things in his life. Whatever Peter had or hadn’t explicitly said, dipping out had just felt like it would be undermining, and he isn’t a damn chicken so he showed the fuck up. 

So now there he fucking sits, and May Parker is ...accusing him? 

Though maybe he’s just paranoid. 

Peter, clearly the world’s worst host, had picked up a phone call from one of his lab-mates and taken it to his room so as not to be disruptive.Selfish prick. 

_‘I know who you are_ ’ 

What the ever-living-fuck? 

“Oh?” his tone’s a little too high, a little too innocent.

She looks amused with that, so that may be a good thing.Or a fucking ruse, so Pete needs to come back in.

“You climbed in my window with a mask on once, I think...”

Three times, but that’s none of her business. 

Peter really needs to come the hell back.Wade’s not sure if he’s supposed to deny this, how much he’s allowed to lie.Why the fuck hadn’t he asked these questions?Why hadn’t he made a strategy? Like he’s some feeb. 

So he makes the executive decision that it would be worse to get caught in a lie here.After all, if she’s figured a thing out and still allowed him inside then it can’t be too bad. Maybe. 

“I might have, yeah...sounds like a thing I would do...”

“I’ve seen you on the news, too.Deadpool ... ...it’s a funny name,” she watches him curiously.

_‘Lady, you can eye me all day but I’m not talking to you about that ... ...Peter!’_ he internally seethes. 

“Funny’s one word for it,” is all he actually says aloud. 

Awesome.Terrifying.Sexy.Badass. 

Those are also words,but nooooo... 

“Don’t be so defensive ...Peter trusts you,” there’s still something cagy about her no matter how pleasant she sounds. 

“And?” he eggs her because you can’t just tell someone not to be defensive and expect that to be enough. 

“I don’t like guns...”

Aw, hell, lady. 

Wade, of course, is exceedingly skilled with guns.He loves guns.He’ll clean a gun, load a gun, and definitely shoot a gun, all with a smile on his face.Hell, he’ll kiss a gun ... ...okay, he _has_ kissed a gun.He may or may not have even composed a song or two about his favorite guns.He has a gun hidden on him now, in fact.He’ll never not like guns, and he could tell you all the great things about all sorts of guns. 

But, like, he can’t tell May Parker that.Not when a criminal with an unregistered firearm had shot and killed her husband.There are a lot of arguments to be made that it wasn’t the poor gun’s fault, but he isn’t going to debate the shades of that argument with the widow sitting across from him. 

“Noted,” he nods diplomatically because he’s stalked enough business men to know how deals can be struck. “I could refrain from bringing them here in the future...” he offers after short consideration and quick calculation. 

He can hold up that promise.She hasn’t said anything about knives after all.Bullets are forever but, hey, so is serrated steel. 

_‘Fuck yeah.’_

“I think that would be good....”

“Done,” he nods. 

Pleasure doing business with you, you freaky little jury of one.And, fuck, he can’t just _not_ respect her for speaking to him so plainly. He’s made much stronger and well-established people uneasy in his day.Then again, none of those fools had Spider-man in their back pocket. 

He realizes, then, that he ought to rank her as formidable. 

“Sorry, sorry ...I’m done,” Peter bustles back in so they can have dessert, and he’s smiling like he’s not a punk. 

“She knows I’m Deadpool,” Wade hisses when May first excuses herself to use the restroom and then promises she’ll get to cutting the pie. 

Peter blinks. 

“What did you do?” 

“Me? Nothing!” Wade glances down the hall and then back.“She accosted me. Like she was a lion and I was only a feeble little gazelle!”

Peter snorts.Wade appreciates that he has trouble picturing him as a bony, helpless animal but come on know - _he’s been called out_. 

“The baby gazelle, Pete.The straggler who’s left behind _-_ thanks for that by the way _-_ and she just fucking pounced ...” 

Then Peter laughs outright. 

Wade’s undeniably relieved to see Peter isn’t mad or even nervous about what this could mean. He also wants to ship the other man off to the service to learn the meaning of ‘No Man Left Behind.’ 

“What’d she say?” 

“...that Deadpool’s a funny name,” Wade sighs because why bring up the fact that she’s worried about guns in the home. 

Peter laughs again and smiles openly at Wade. Squeezes his thigh under the table for some kind of comfort. 

Alright, fine, happy fucking birthday. 

May’s back soon enough and opens up the Pecan Pie, Peter’s favorite.Wade’s more of a blueberry man himself, but dessert is dessert so bring it on. 

“Would you like any help?” he half stands from his seat before he’s waved down. 

“Yeah, he’s good with a knife,” Peter points out like an absolute dick who’s trying to draw attention to Wade’s second favorite weapon. “What?” Peter snorts at the look Wade cuts him. “You’re a surprisingly good cook...” 

Hmmm, decent save. 

“No, no, it’s alright ...it’s not homemade,” she confesses.“I bought it at the bakery on 8th, so I should at least cut it so I feel part of the process.And you’re a guest, Wade; have a seat...” 

“Does that mean _I’m_ supposed to help?” Peter takes the hint. 

“No, it’s your birthday.Everybody sit,” May insists and wields the knife herself. 

Proving she can use blades, too. 

Formidable. 


	5. The Burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fuck that noise. You’re not broken,” Wade chuckles and sounds quite confident as he waves Weasel over for another beer.  
> “I could be...”  
> Peter knows he’s being melodramatic at this point, but also maybe not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure this was the first chapter I completely finished, and I know most of it wrote quickly.
> 
> I just really liked this conundrum for Peter as insight into some of his possible stresses...

It had started when Peter entered Aunt May’s apartment.He’d let himself in with the key he still possessed and then looked around expectantly. 

“...what?” his aunt had chirped, trying to track his gaze. 

“...nothing,” he shrugged it off and leaned in for the hug she was dutifully offering. 

_Can’t leave a girl hanging._

It was nothing

He’d stayed late at work and then headed over to visit for a while on the way home, and he figured her was just on-edge.After hectic hours in the lab and then the typical nonsense on the subway, he thought he could just chalk it up to a long day.That once he relaxed and settled into the evening, surely he’d feel just fine. 

But now Peter has been at his aunt’s apartment for twenty minutes or so, and it’s possible that he’s going crazy. The niggling feeling has continued.It has now crept out of the tension in his shoulders to crawl up his neck and leave a prickling sensation on his scalp as some of his hairs stand on end. 

That never means anything good. 

Without preamble, he shoots up from the table where he’s been trying to enjoy leftovers to storm through the whole apartment. 

“Peter?” May’s voice follows him.“What are you doing?” 

He doesn’t answer right away because he’s too busy opening every door - _closet, cupboard, or otherwise_.

Something’s not right.

Or someone’s here. 

Or something’s happening.

Or ...he doesn’t know.

The spidey-sense isn’t exactly in the business of giving him explicit instructions. His reflexes take control when there’s an immediate threat - _duck, jump, turn around! -_ but other times his senses are picking up on something more subtle that he can’t always decipher.If he at least has a context for the feeling, he can usual figure something out. But sometimes, like if he’s in too crowded a space, he sometimes just has to give it up because it could be too many things.

It’s not crowded here, though; it’s just him and May.Plus, he knows the apartment like the back of his hand, so he should be able to tell what’s wrong even if he has to scour every nook and cranny. 

“Peter, I don’t want to interrupt ...but you’re being very strange. Don’t scare Auntie,” May pipes up again when she comes to stand in the doorway to her own room where he’d descended to crouching on the ground and peeking under her bed. 

Peter looks up curiously because he’s never called her _Auntie_ in his life. 

“Also, you might not like what you find under there,” she smirks playfully, and he feels like she’s kidding but he can’t know that for sure and certainly is not going to ask. 

Because Peter does _not_ need to know. 

Ugh. Talk about upsetting. 

He physically reels back from the bed and then rises off of the carpet.He will not, however, give up his prowling altogether. 

“Has something changed here?Did you move anything or ...something?” he interrogates her in hopes that she can point him in the right direction of settling this matter. 

“Well, I’m always moving things ...but no.No actual rearranging,” she considers the question. “Why?” 

“Something doesn’t feel right...”

He eyes her window and strides over to it and shoves it up, then pops out the screen so he can climb onto the fire escape and have a look around.He even inspects every inch of the window frame for any indication someone has tampered with it. 

If someone has tried breaking in on his Aunt, he _will_ go full spy mode on the situation.Spider-man will stake-out the building until a perp is found, and he’ll even contract Deadpool to help.

Beat that, petty criminal.

He finds no reason to do so, however. At least not out there. Not yet. 

“What doesn’t feel right?” Aunt May has to call after him while she locks the window because he’s stomped off again before she can join him. 

“Not sure yet...”

Then he’s pawing through his old room, in desk drawers and the closet and even under his own old twin bed.

“I think you might be overreacting,” May watches him with a curious expression, having followed him down the hall to witness him act like a mad person. 

Admittedly, he is diving pretty deep into this suspicion.Like, what the hell threatening thing is going to be in the drawer of a desk he hasn’t properly used in years?Actually: no.Peter, as Spider-man, has seen a lot of weird stuff, and threats can be very small and innocuous.Cameras. Bombs. Poison. Various weapons.

...okay, so maybe he’s been around Wade’s hyper-vigilance a little too long.And, if he’s honest, his Spidey-senses _have_ been a little faulty before, picking up on something that could count as curious rather than ominous. 

Fine. 

He stops poking through his old, sparsely-filled closet and sighs defeat. 

“Maybe you’re right...I just,” he pauses, though he knows Aunt May won’t think he’s crazy, “thought it was something...” 

She doesn’t look mad.She doesn’t laugh. She just considers him. 

“That’s quite the burden,” she nods slowly and with a thoughtfulness that’s almost painful. 

Because most days Peter thinks of his abilities as a gift.Despite the fear he feels at times. Despite the way his body has been battered and will probably be battered again. Despite the responsibility he often feels to do right, do more, do _everything_. His powers have given him the chance to help people in a way he never would have been able to otherwise.He’s literally saved lives. He’s been able to see with his own eyes how hope and gratitude can replace terror or pain. 

But then some days ...yeah, it does feel like a burden; that weight is there in a lot of ways.In the sleep he loses. In the way he’s had to learn firsthand where the cracks are in a justice system that he really _really_ wants to believe in. In the guilt he coats himself with when he fails because, hey New York, even Spider-man makes mistakes. 

And Aunt May knows all of this. She’s seen him grow and become strong, and maybe he’s achieved some things he would have been to scared to go for before. Yet she’s also seen him cry because, look ...listen, when you break-up an assault in progress, it’s _still pretty freaking scary_.You’ve helped, but you’re still faced with a crying girl, and you still have to turn around and look into the eyes of the person who was hurting her.And when you sit back and really think about it ...it’s a lot. 

And this feeling is a lot, too.Not because someone’s being attacked in the apartment but because he feels like something wrong, and he’s made a habit of acting on that.Of thinking he’s the person who _needs_ to act on that feeling. 

_‘A fucking complex, Baby Boy,’_ is what Wade calls that. 

And maybe he’s right. 

Some days, anyway.

Because May is looking at him with that calm, knowing look.She’s not upset, so he shouldn’t be upset.She’s fine.He’s fine. 

Everything is fine, Peter. 

“Yeah, I guess,” he finally concedes and follows her back out to the kitchen. 

Still, he drags in a long, slow breath through his nose.And, yes, he smells the pot roast she reheated for him _\- delicious, bee-tee-dubs_ \- but he tries to smell beyond that. 

Smoke? 

Gas leak? 

Co2? Nope, that would be odorless.

Black mold?Would he even be able to identify that smell?Maybe.

Dead body in the wall? 

The possibilities really are endless, and he doesn’t smell anything strange, anyway. He gives another sniff to be sure. 

“Stop that,” May pokes him in the side and pushes him towards his abandoned seat. 

Though her strength is negligible compared to his own and ineffectual in moving his lean body, Peter lets himself sway forward and then drop into his seat. 

Right.Everything’s fine, Peter. 

And it appears true. 

But it doesn’t feel true yet. 

Subdued but still agitated, Peter pulls his collar up and returns to scarfing down the pot roast.A full stomach does often make him feel better. 

  
  


“Maybe I should stay,” he decides later even after he’s already let May walk him to the door.“I could crash here...”

“And make me paranoid all night?Think again,” May huffs in an uncharacteristically inhospitable way that makes Peter balk a moment.“I think you need a good night’s sleep, kiddo.” 

He manages to muster a glare for her.He doesn’t need her condescension; he’d cagy, dammit.

“No, I mean it.No work tonight; go to sleep.” 

Peter pulls his coat tighter around himself for personal comfort. 

“Fine.”

“Good night!” she brightly accepts that she’s won. 

“Good night,” Peter drops a kiss to her cheek and then shuffles off. 

He’s half convinced that the building is going to implode onto him on his way downstairs, but nothing so thrilling happens. 

He feels just fine. 

May was right. 

Everything’s fine, Peter. 

* * *

“I think I’m broken,” Peter complains later because he did not go to sleep at all; he’d tracked down Wade to Sister Margaret’s.

So there he sits on a barstool next to Wade, who’s surprised to see him now and not later when he meets him to patrol.But not only has Peter assured Aunt May he wouldn’t go out, he’s not sure he _should_ be out on a day that he can’t even rely on his own senses. 

He trusts Wade isn’t sorry for the surprise. 

“Fuck that noise. You’re not broken,” Wade chuckles and sounds quite confident as he waves Weasel over for another beer. 

“I could be...”

Peter knows he’s being melodramatic at this point, but also maybe not.He’s peeved with himself and this apparent lack of insight into his own body, his own thoughts. The Spidey-senses are a part of him, and when they simply fire off and act of their own accord without letting him in on the secret ...it’s disconcerting. 

It’s just plain rude is what it is. 

He tugs his jacket, which he has yet to remove, tight around him again to suppress this uneasy feeling.Wade watches him do it with quiet curiosity, studies him closely in a way that makes Peter think he’s done something incredibly telling. 

“You’re not,” he maintains his stance a moment later.

“Prove it.”

“Can’t. You’re the nerd, not me.I don’t _do_ science - I just know. Gotta trust me, baby boy ....cheers, Weas,” he thanks the bartender for the two fresh beers and pushes one to Peter. 

Peter ignores it and bends forward to _thunk_ his forehead onto the bar. 

“I really wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Weasel dead-pans. 

Right.Shit.He’d forgotten where he was. 

Peter sits back up, eyes the beer, and then picks it up to drain 3/4 of it in one go. 

“I guess you probably want another, then...”

“You gotta lighten up, Peter ...maybe she’s right and you just need extra sleep tonight; I’ll tire your out if you need,” Wade waggles his non-existent eyebrows suggestively.“Or maybe your radar was just wonky.  Maybe it was a neighbor up to something instead...” 

“One of the neighbors,” Peter stiffens and then wiggles in his seat with half a mind to head straight back where he’d come from. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Then again, what was he going to do: crawl around all their windows to try to spot something nefarious? 

Well, he _could_. Nothing could stop him but his own conscience...

“Don’t even think about it, Rambo.”

Oh.Or Wade. 

Peter narrows his eyes at the mercenary.Like he’s a pillar of wise choices?

Wade doesn’t flinch. 

“I thought you and your Aunt were like BFFs with all her neighbors?” Wade still sounds completely at ease, and Peter tries to soak up some of that feeling.“Leave ‘em alone!I just meant maybe someone was, I dunno ...reading their daughter’s diary or stealing their brother’s Aderol, and you could’ve picked up on their nervousenergy.That’s the kind of thing you do, right?” 

“...sometimes,” Peter sighs because he is not an exact science. 

Which, ya know, he hates. 

But Wade is right.It could have been so many inconsequential things. 

“Then let weirdos be weirdos. That’s what I always say...”

“You’re right...”

“I know,” Wade pounds a fist on his chest like he’s a champ and smiles broadly. 

Peter chuckles at this and realizes he ought to just be happy to be here where they can just relax and be in each other’s company. He’s been busy this semester with grad classes and work and second work ...so this is actually a little bit rare.They should enjoy it.He does need to relax.

“Yes to another beer,” Peter calls to Weasel, who waves his hand in acknowledgement. 

“Good man,” Wade claps him on the back in approval and rubs his shoulder a moment, acknowledging Peter’s frustration but also trying to help him chill. 

Relax. 

Everything fine, Peter. 

* * *

Except that Peter is vindicated around 6:50am when his phone rings.  

Everything is not fine, Peter.

* * *

Hospitals are entirely too bright, the lights pressing into his eyes.  It’s been quite a long time since Peter had been in one, so he’d almost forgotten.   The sterile smell is sharp his nose, but he doesn’t mind that because it promises clean.  Clean is generally good, and he could use something good right now, _please and thank you very much._

And he’s tired, but he isn’t going to sleep. 

May is sleeping, now, so he’s watching. Not that there’s a lot to watch for, he understands that, but it feels productive. 

The phone call he’d received had been from one of Aunt May’s neighbors, Ms. Allen.Peter has always liked her and will probably have to like her even more, now.She’d called after an ambulance left with Aunt May, who had come knocking at her door early in the morning unable to talk properly.Aunt May, they now understood, had gotten up to use the bathroom and couldn’t lift one of her arms all the way; she’d been unsteady but had made it next door. 

A mini-stroke, that’s what they said it was.Okay but, like, how do you know it’s not stroke of the non-mini variety. You know, a stroke-stroke. 

The doctor rattled off the differences and sent Aunt May for an MRI to take a look. 

A mini-stroke.Okay, but what does that mean?What do we do? 

Explore some different blood pressure meds than the one she already took but not much else, apparently.Peter doesn’t 100% accept that, but he’s also not going to WebMD itright in front of medical staff ...he’s not going to be **that** guy. Later, though, he’ll Google a few things.Or, even better, sneak up to the medical floors at Stark Tower and pester some of the doctors up there.Perfect. 

Allegedly, this is something she could have slept through and never even known. That’s common, apparently, which is downright horrifying and maybe Peter will just never sleep again.How about that, doc?

Aunt May herself is much more calm about this.Says she’s lucky, all things considered.And yeah, okay.But also: no. 

Because Peter had known, hadn’t he? He’d known something was wrong.He just hadn’t considered that he was sensing something _in_ her.He never knew he could have a job as one of those dogs that can sense seizures or smell changes in blood sugar, or whatever, but now that’s a back-up plan if the whole science thing doesn’t pan out. 

He knows he’s being a little dramatic again.But ... he’d been _right there_.And, okay, she’s fine, but what if she hadn’t been? 

She had seen this written all over his face earlier and told him very seriously that her health was not one of his burdens. That he couldn’t possibly have known.That she’d never expect him to know. That she probably wouldn’t have believed him even if he’d said he thought she was sick because she’d felt fine.That it’s no one’s fault...except maybe hers a little bit because hypertension is a risk factor for strokes and some aspects of hypertension are due to diet and lifestyle, _so maybe I could have done better, ya know?_

Hush yourself, Aunt May! 

In his head, Peter knows she’s right. 

In his heart, where it’s weighing heavy in his chest, she doesn’t _feel_ right. 

So he’s sitting dutifully in a moderately comfortable, high-backed chair with her. He’s still wearing the sweats he’d jumped out of bed in and the hoodie he’d tugged on.His hood’s up so he can inconspicuously wipe away the occasional tears _\- because she’s fine but. What. If. She. Hadn’t. Been_ \- while he watches. 

That’s how Wade finds him when he shows up. Sitting forward, hood up, eyes open but a little blank. 

“Hey Petey,” he greets gently because he’s really not sure what he’s walking into. 

He’d gotten a couple texts throughout the morning confirming that, yes, May was going to be okay.Yes, she’s still going to be in the hospital for a while.No, Peter doesn’t need anything. 

He comes anyway. 

Because that’s what you do; he’s pretty sure.He doesn’t really follow an etiquette book these days, but he fucking knows things.Above that, he knows Peter.Aunt May might be out of the woods, but that doesn’t mean Peter if fucking okay. 

Peter sniffs before he looks up, and the sound is somewhat thick.That means tears are, or at least were, on the scene.Wade doesn’t mind.He’s been a damn mess enough times himself that Peter would be hard-pressed to top him. 

“Hi ...you didn’t need to come...”

“Nah, I like hanging out in hospitals ...no one really questions me.They all assume I wandered down from another floor, like the burn unit or something,” he plays down his own hatred of hospitals. 

It’s not like he’s ever heard good news in one. Scans. Scans. Scans. You have cancer every-fucking-where, Mr Wilson.Don’t call me Mr. Wilson, just tell me what we can do-- _oh_ , nothing? Fucking great.

Not bright and shiny memories. 

But Peter’s here, and that’s pretty worth it.He doesn’t like the idea of him fretting here alone; he doesn’t deserve that kindda shit.

“How’s she doing?” Wade asks what he figures is the easy question first. 

“They say she’ll be fine; they’re keeping her 24 hours just in case ...ya know, whatever that means,” he scowls but goes on. “They’ll do a CAT scan before she can go ...she might try new blood pressure medicine, but that’s it.She could have another one or a stroke, or she might never have one again.”

Wade watches how this information manifests to make Peter shift in his seat in a tetchy sort of way.He gets it.This isn’t exactly concrete information to go on: you’re at a higher risk now, but just go live your life. Peter likes his science, and medicine is a science; he’d likely been expecting more of an answer.A solution. 

But Wade knows better than anyone that sometimes your body just doesn’t bat an eye at fucking you right up. 

“That’s good...”

“I fucking guess....” 

Oh, Friendly Neighborhood Spider-man is pulling out the big words. _Sweet_. 

“C’mon; it is.This could have been worse...”

Perhaps morbid, but definitely true. 

“That’s what she said...and I know,” Peter admits with a sigh.“I know that’s true,” a tear leaks out the corner of his eye and he swipes the traitor away. 

“Pete...” Wade is uncomfortable with this show of emotion only because he knows this isn’t the right time to ease things with humor, which is his forte. 

He rarely meets a situation he can’t summon a joke for because the real joke is that it’s all a joke, right?They’re alla little mad, and it’s all fucking pointless. 

Except for when it feels like it isn’t.Like now.Like how he feels he has to fix this for Peter...but there is no real fix.

“I’m alright.”

Wade lets him have that for now. He retreats momentarily to step past Peter and look at the flowers on the short table beside May’s bed. They’re tall and full, and he has a sneaky suspicion. 

“Nice,” he flicks the card Tony Stark himself had signed. 

“I let him and my boss know why I wasn’t coming in to work; they showed up an hour later...” Peter grins a little because May has extremely mixed feelings about the billionaire. 

He’s helped Peter update his suits and make them arguably safer.Fine; she’s grateful for that. He’d found out Peter’s identity and offered advice and a little guidance to the budding geek.Fine, sure.What he hadn’t done was try to talk a teenager into staying in bed at night, and if he had it had been a half-hearted attempt.What he definitely hadn’t done was call the teenager’s Aunt to give her a heads-up.Not fine, sir.Not fine at all.

May accepts Spider-man now because he’s actually a man, and she can’t stop him.Peter’s not so sure he would have let her stop him even when he was a teenager, but that’s not the way she sees it. 

“Thoughtful,” Wade has mixed feelings about Iron Man, too, for entirely different reasons.“Kindda surprised he didn’t swoop in and transfer her to his med bay...”

“If she was worse I probably would have asked,” Peter admits and scrubs the sleeve of his sweater at his nose. 

Wade watches him blink rapidly. 

“You didn’t know, Peter,” he finally can’t _not_ say the thing that’s hanging in the air. 

When it personally behooves him, Wade can play oblivious just like any other schmuck.Otherwise, he rarely ignores elephants in rooms.He likes to point at them, maybe call them names, maybe try to ride it. 

“You don’t know that,” Peter argues, though he looks away like he knows his refutation is a weak one. 

“Yes I do.”

And that makes Peter glare at the floor. 

“I knew something was wrong; I shouldn’t have left...I just went out drinking instead...” 

“This is that complex I’ve been telling you about, P--”

“It’s not like that,” there’s a glare in Peter’s tone but not on his face; his face is contorted trying not to cry. “I didn’t know what was wrong, but I left her.I’m not stupid.I know I couldn’t have stopped a stroke or mini-stroke -- or what the fuck ever. But I could have been there....”

“You can’t do that to yourself, Peter; trust me.That’s a deep fucking hole, and...”

Wade trails off, watching as Peter shakes his head and tugs at the collar of his hoodie so he can wrap it a little tighter to himself.Wade can see that for what it is.He knows right where Peter first feels the tingling of his Spidey-sense when it comes on. 

“C’mere,” he steps closer and slips his hand into Peter’s hood to give the back of his neck a firm squeeze for him.“You need to take it easy on your damn self...”

Which is ironic as fuck for him to be saying, he knows - _maybe the most ironic thing he’s ever said._ Wade’s a real fucking ass to himself, and he more or less ignores Peter when he tries to give him the same kind of advice.So he knows it’s not easy to process, but it’s true and Peter needs to damn well hear it. 

More tears bubble on Peter’s lower lid, but he doesn’t blink so they don’t fall. He’s staring somewhere around Wade’s forearm where it’s hovering inches from his face. 

“She must have been scared,” his voice does shake, then. “I could have been there for that...” 

One errant tear does fall but Wade wipes it away before Peter needs to. 

“Okay, yeah, you could have been,” Wade danes to agree because at least Peter isn’t carrying the delusion that he could have stopped what happened, and that is something. 

Peter shudders at these words, but he’s able to blink without crying when he hears that he’s right.That he’s not being crazy. 

“Doesn’t mean you need to beat yourself up about it...”

Peter scoffs at this, but he does lean his neck into Wade’s palm.The taller man grins, massages lightly with said hand, and crouches down to Peter’s level where he’s sitting. 

“You listening?” he twists his head to try actually catching Peter’s eye. 

Though Peter nods, he’s steadfast in keeping his gaze averted. 

“Hey,” he squeezes the back of Peter’s neck hard enough to just barely stay on this side of painful, and maybe that’s uncalled for but Peter does look up.“Would you have left if you’d known? 

A tiny moment of panic flashes across Peter’s face like he’s been accused of something, but he schools himself quickly. 

“No.”

“Then that’s all that matters,” Wade promises even though he knows _\- he fucking knows, okay? -_ that saying that sort of thing is easier than believing it.“Hear that?” 

Peter’s mouth is turned down, but he does nod again and that’s something.Not quite enough, but something.Wade sighs and rests his forehead onto Peter’s for a moment so that they just breathe the same air, and hopefully that’s comforting.

“She still asleep?” Wade pulls back just an inch or two. 

Peter’s eyes flicker past Wade’s shoulder and then back to his face.He blinks slowly, and Wade takes it as an affirmative so he leans in to press his lips to Peter’s.Because, yes, that’s what this is now.The kiss is soft and quick, and then he’s gone. 

Peter licks his lips unconsciously and glances over Wade’s shoulder again at Aunt May.Not because he’s lying about any of this.Not really, anyway.Peter had managed to explore himself a little in college, so this isn’t a complete shock and he doesn’t have to wrap his head around it much.Anyway, Aunt May won’t give a shit. 

It’s just...that he’s Deadpool.Peter still hasn’t quite reconciled everything that Deadpool was and is with his own beliefs, so he’s not ready to bring May into it.Then there’s the Gwen part. He hasn’t been in a serious relationship since her, and they all know how traumatically that had ended.He’s given Aunt May zero indication that he’s ready to try any of that again, and he’s still somewhat stressed about it himself. 

So, no, he’s not trying to outright lie.He’s just trying to get comfortable himself, and he’s not ready for anyone else’s opinions on the matter.Well, except Wade’s...

Wade, who’s here.Who’s being perfect. Who’s leaning away, now. 

Peter fists his hand in the front of Wade’s coat to stop him.He gives a tug and tilts his chin up to kiss him again.Wade’s mouth is twisted into a grin against Peter’s lips, but he kisses back swiftly and eagerly deepens it with Peter opens his mouth to him. 

“Thanks for coming,” he murmurs once he releases Wade and he starts to stand up. “Not that you needed to.I’m totally fine...” 

“Yeah, I can tell,” Wade can see the self-deprecation in Peter’s comment, so he feels entitled to joke now.“You cool if I stay?” 

“Sure...” 

“Want me to go grab some food first?Have you even eaten today?” 

The sheepish shift of Peter’s shoulder’s answers that for him. 

“Momma Deadpool to the rescue...” he shuffles off to spook the fuck out of rest of the hospital. 

.

When May wakes up again a short time later, she’s not confused by the less-than-comfortable bed for the unnatural smell of the place.She remembers just fine where she is. 

She fully expects Peter to still be there, but she’s surprised by hearing quiet chatter as she blinks her eyes open. When she slides her gaze to the side she finds that Peter is, indeed, still there in his cozy clothes, and Wade is there, too.They both have their phones out bickering about Word Scores - _more video games -_ and they’ve commandeered her tray table for food wrappers and snacks. 

That isn’t what she’d expected, but she smiles anyway.

“You found the concession stand?” 

Wade’s eyes pop up to her from his phone, and Peter snaps upright from where he’s slouched like he’s surprised she’s in the land of the living at all.Hadn’t the doctor’s told him she was fine?Hadn’t _she_ promised him she was fine?The boy would listen to his professors and Captain America, but not licensed doctors or his non-licensed Aunt. 

Priorities, she supposes. 

“Morning,” Peter pulls himself back together to smile a smile that reaches his eyes properly. 

He hadn’t been able to do that when he’d first arrived at the hospital with her.Maybe he’d gotten a brief nap.Or maybe he’d let some of the doctor’s appraisals actually sink in. 

“Good afternoon,” she corrects him, having already spotted the clock. “And hello, Wade.” 

“Hi ... ...and to answer your question, there’s no concession stand to be found.I do think I hit every vending machine in the building, though,” he nods at the mostly-eaten spread. 

“Well I’m glad someone fed him ....sorry I slept through it all like a parter pooper,” she paws around the bed for the remote that will sit her bed up further so she can properly join the conversation. 

“Don’t apologize.”

“Besides, your sleep talking was entertaining and you--- _oof,_ ” Wade stops when Peter smacks him in the gut. 

“Cut it”

“I’m just teasing ...May, can you still take a joke?” Wade directs himself towards the woman since this just makes Peter glare.

“I certainly hope so ...Peter, be nice,” May chided. 

“Don’t take his side!” Peter finds issue with this betrayal since he’s the loving nephew waiting at her bedside, is he not?

“There’s no sides...” 

Meanwhile Wade’s just laughing.Cackling, practically.Shouldn’t a nurse be coming to kick him out for being disruptive?Because Peter’s thankful for him today, but he’s also annoying. 

Which is probably a descent summary of his entire personality, really. 

Peter grins despite himself.  


	6. Rolling in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She actually kind of hopes to see his Spider suit crumpled on the floor as evidence that he’s getting back to normal. 
> 
> There’s no spider suit in sight, but there’s still plenty to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Last chapter of a mini-saga that I had a lot of fun with...and i feel weirdly nervous about it? I don't know. I feel like I haven't seen the last of May though. I might love her a little <3
> 
> Thanks for the support on this one.  
> Be back soon.

It’s late, but Wade doesn’t mind.He’s certainly not afraid of the dark. 

_‘_ _I’m_ _the thing that goes bump in the night, bitch,’_ he chuckles to himself. 

It’s also chilly, but he isn’t fazed by that, either. Wade Wilson enjoys the cold, prefers it.When the temperatures drop, everyone starts wearing layers.He can hunker in under a hood and a hat, and no one thinks twice - _mask or not_.NYC camouflage. 

He rounds the corner of a now-familiar block and trudges around the back of Peter’s old building.Three up, two over.He’s almost there, and he’s beating the inevitable rain. 

As fucking planned. 

It’s much easier muscling down the ladder and climbing the fire escape when he isn’t carrying a Peter Parker.He’d do it again, sure, but it had sucked kind of a lot. 

Anyway, he hasn’t seen Spidey lately because he’s been staying at his Aunt’s since she got out of the hospital.Just over a week, now.Peter says she's being kind of a pill about it.Yeah, they’re close, but she’s fully functioning and doesn’t actually need help or supervision. Apparently he’s making her feel old.

She hasn’t kicked him out yet, though, and Wade suspects Peter may stay right up until the second she does. Her scare had become Peter’s scare, and Wade is just a little tickled by it. 

Possibly even jealous, if he really digs down into the nitty-gritty of things.He’s never had family like that, with devotion and nurturing and yadda yadda.Hell, he would have been over the moon if his old man had had a stroke back when he was a kid; it would have been the nicest thing the fucker ever did for him. 

May is the real goddamn MVP, though. She probably wouldn’t appreciate it, but he’d kill for her.He’s 100% sure.Nah, fuck that. 110%. 

Peter’s window is dark when Wade reaches the right landing, but he knows his boy’s in there.He doesn’t knock on the glass too hard;he knows he doesn’t have to. Peter will hear it. 

Indeed, he sees Peter’s silhouette pop up to sit in his old twin bed.He goes still for a few moments and Wade imagines he’s squinting a bit to see him around the sleepiness.After the slight pause, Peter scrambles to the end of the bed to unlock and slide open the window. 

“Hi....” 

“Hey, baby boy ... ...gonna let me in?”Peter’s kneeling on the end of his bed blocking the window-way for Wade to crawl into.

Funny because Wade had been pretty sure he’s welcome here now. Had he not reached agreements with the apartment’s chief tenant? Maybe he has to go a little harder to charm the pants off her.Ya know, figuratively ...because incest may be a game the whole family can play, but it’s one of few things Wade has exactly no interest in. 

“Oh ...I thought maybe you needed something,” he crawls back a bit to let Wade in. 

“Nah,” the mercenary lumbers himself inside and then only partially shuts the window behind him. “Storm’s comin’ in...” he explains, unzipping his coat. 

“Oh yeah?You feel it in your old man bones?”

Wade starts, then snorts. 

“I’ll show you old man bones...” 

He dives at Peter, tackling him straight onto the bed.There’s no yelp or laughter which is mildly disappointing but, yeah, okay, they need to be quiet.Peter does let Wade’s weight settle onto him, and they both sigh before Wade dips in to kiss him. 

Wade scrapes his fingers into Peter’s hair to hold him right where he is just in case the man under him has plans to go somewhere.Peter’s been tense and absent, and he has perfectly good reasons but Wade still isn’t a fan. They’ve melded enough to become a normal part of each others’ routine, so the recent anomaly is annoying.Instinctively, somewhere tucked in his hindbrain, part of Wade knows he should take this as a warning because it’s dangerous for anything to become too regular. Predictable. 

However, this _feels_ good ...and not a lot of fucking things in his life have genuinely felt good. If he’s being a selfish twat, he’ll deal with it later. 

Not that Peter seems to mind.He’s doing the same damn thing, looping his legs over Wade’s to tangle them together so he can’t bail.Which he’s not going to do, but the other man’s show of possessiveness feels warm instead of claustrophobic. 

“I ain’t going anywhere...” Wade sinks further in, groaning softly at the feeling of Peter widening his hips to make room and accept him. 

_This fucking guy._

They’re kissing, and then they’re grabbing, and before either of them probably means to they’re rocking against each other.It’s jittery at first until they slip into something comfortable for both of them. They’re both panting, breath short and harsh. Peter’s fingers are digging hard, but not too-hard, into Wade’s lower spine, and Wade can’t fucking _not_ grunt and rut forward a little harder. 

“Fuck, Pete...” he wheezes. 

And Wade can’t see the younger man’s grin, but the little shit huffs a laugh to make sure Wade knows it’s there. He sinks in to kiss the smirk away and shoves a hand under Peter and past the elastic of his Hogwarts pajama pants to grab at his ass and pull him up tighter to his rolling hips. 

“Wait, wait...” 

Wade relaxes the hold even even though he sure he hasn’t overstepped, hasn’t done anything they haven’t already done in the quiet familiarity of their own apartments already.Even so, he moves his mouth along Peter’s jaw to hear him out. 

“Stop; we can’t here ...we can’t...” 

He’s not unraveling himself from Wade, and that is kind of delicious but it’s not a mixed signal.It’s not a surprise Peter doesn’t want to get carried away here with his Aunt so close by.Wade would fucking do it, but it doesn’t shock or even particularly bother him that Peter isn’t willing.Because they’ll have time later.Plenty of time.He doesn’t always believe that kind of shit, but for some reason, just for now in this moment, he does

“Alright, yeah...” Wade continues to mouth at Peter’s throat for a second and then forces himself to sit up on his knees. 

He finally finishes shedding his coat, tosses it away, and then does the disentangling of legs so he can drop to the side.There’s not a ton of room in the bed, particularly considering his breadth, but Peter shifts onto his side so they manage to fit. 

Peter squirms a bit where he lays, and Wade has to reach down and adjust himself to actually be comfortable.There is surely a quiet way they could have alleviated that, but Wade’s not going to talk anyone into shit.They lay there a while, breathing with just their arms touching. 

Once he believes he’ll be satisfied and cozy with platonic touch, Wade jostles Peter around so he can get an arm under him and Pete can rest his head on Wade’s broad shoulder.Then he prattles on about the goings on at Margaret’s, Weasel’s latest bullshit, and his latest recon regarding a possible-future-maybe-mark.His stories are colorful and amusing because, frankly, he’s fucking hilarious, but he only feels a little cheated when Peter repays this A+ gossip with stories from school.There’s like a whole two interesting people in Peter’s classes, but Peter does love science and labs.Only because of this does Wade try to keep up with it all once Peter reaches subjects that are beyond the mercenary’s knowledge. 

When Peter talks about May, Wade’s ear gets a bit sharper.Looking for worry and nuances in what Pete is and isn’t saying.All seems well, though. 

Once the rain starts, they both get a bit quieter.Soon enough it’s pouring and thunder is rumbling. 

They’ve hunkered down on enough roofs to watch storms roll in that it’s a bit of a thing for them. Something loud and destructive but also natural and, in some ways, calming.Peter likes the way lightening forks patterns through the air.Wade likes the way thunder vibrates in his bones. 

“I think May’s gonna take a stand soon,” Peter curls himself a little more around Wade.“Gonna send me home...”

“Guess I should replace all the food I’ve been sneaking in for, then...” 

“If there are no cookies in my apartment, I’ll break your fingers.” 

“Sounds kinky...”

“Ugh,” Wade gets a pinch above his navel for that, but he only chuckles. 

“What?Ain’t like I’m scared of you...” 

“Maybe you should be.” 

Peter’s joking, but the statement is a little too true for Wade to comment on. So he doesn’t.He rests his eyes instead and listens to the rain.It’s slowed down just enough that it sortta of sounds like bacon popping and crackling in grease.That makes him kind of hungry.It smells fresh through the window they’ve left cracked open, which kind of makes him want to go stand in it.He also doesn’t want to move.Maybe ever.

“Maybe I should leave before she has to sit me down...” 

“You don’t want to do that,” Wade knows. 

“Nah, I don’t....” 

They chat a little more over the rain until they drift off. 

* * *

 

It’s funny that there have been several days over the last year that May Parker sort of wishes her nephew still lived at home.It hadn’t been like that when Peter was in college; back then, he’d come home often enough to escape cafeteria food and the scrutiny of roommates when he wanted to go Spider-man-ing that May still saw him regularly.Now, though, he has work and school and a whole life, so she doesn’t see him on a regular basis.Which is normal and natural, and she’s proud of him. 

Every now and then, though, the apartment gets too quiet and she resents it.She’ll wish Ben or Peter _\- or both, in a perfect world, which this is not_ \- were there to talk to her or just to be another living person in her space. 

But now Peter has unofficially holed himself back up in the apartment, and she’d really like him to get the hell out.

She means that with all the love and affection she can muster, _obviously_. 

Because she loves him, but it’s not the natural order of things for him to come back. Plus, he’s doing it for all the wrong reasons. She pats herself on the back for raising a caring young man, but she’s fine, after all.She knows he’s not trying to be condescending, but she doesn’t exactly appreciate the implication that she’s frail and going to keel over any second, _thank you very much, dear._

So she decides she’s going to kick him out.Well, no: she’s going to evict him.She’ll give him notice so he can prepare himself.Seems fair. 

She’ll even make him breakfast first.Super fair. 

If anyone can show her a landlord who’s nicer to an un-signed tenant, she’ll flush her stash of weed. 

She sees Peter’s door isn’t latched, so she stops to nudge it open on her way to the kitchen.This way he’ll wake to the smell of food and follow his nose out, you see.Also, she’s nosey; she actually kind of hopes to see his Spider suit crumpled on the floor as evidence that he’s getting back to normal. 

There’s no spider suit in sight, but there’s still plenty to see. 

Wade, who can’t possibly be mistaken for anyone else, is stretched out on Peter’s twin bed, one hand tucked behind his head and the other circling Peter, who’s fitted on his side between Wade and the wall.They’re crammed in there, two grown men looking awfully uncomfortable on a too-small bed.Perhaps there could have been a couple different explanations for this if Peter’s hand wasn’t shoved up the front of the other man’s sweatshirt to rest on his bare stomach.A fraction of his abs are visible and they are, unsurprisingly, as scarred as any other other part of him she has seen. 

And this whole thing is ...well, she’s not sure why it’s surprising, actually.Wade is always around, in comment if not in physical form.And ...had this been obvious?Maybe she just hadn’t been looking for it.Hadn’t known of Peter’s varied tastes in the first place.

May isn’t so naive as to assume there’s been absolutely nothing remotely sexual or romantic in Peter’s life since poor Gwen Stacy, but he’s never talked about it. Never even hinted there’s been anyone of such interest.She had, on occasion, thought she should be concerned about that, but the circumstances of Gwen’s death had been so tragic, so jarring, that she maybe couldn’t blame Peter if it took him several more years to be ready to venture into that place again.It’s never an easy thing - _she should know._

But apparently he’s ready (or ready-adjacent) because there he is. 

With Wade, which ...is fine? She does have some reservations about the older man, not for _being_ a man but for being Deadpool.  She’s now had that confirmed, and she’s still somewhat disconcerted about it.

On another hand, however, that could make him uniquely qualified for a position in Peter’s life; someone who understands the things even she can’t completely grasp, someone who knows full well what they are getting into and is prepared to deal with it. Someone who is on even footing with Peter, who can both give and take. 

Wade ...well, she already knows him to be imperfect.He’s an interesting choice and he’s Peter’s choice, which will have to be okay with her even if it isn’t.But it is, she thinks.Mostly. 

She’ll settle on it after she ingests some caffeine, maybe. 

She creeps away from the door to go start the coffee and decide between pancakes or bacon and eggs. Possibly all of the above because Peter can eat a horse most days. Past experience suggests Wade can, as well ...if he stays.Is he going to stay? He should.She should at least offer, she supposes.So they both know it’s alright. That her head’s not exploding even though, _fine_ , she’s pretty shocked.

Or is Peter going to sneak him out that open window? 

Well,that wouldn’t do. It is her apartment, and can’t she have whoever she pleases over for breakfast?Peter’s merely somewhat of a squatter these days. 

May wraps her housecoat a bit more snug around her shoulders and strolls back to Peter’s half-open door to shove it wide. 

“Pancakes and bacon are on the menu,” she calls in, and if she is taking advantage of Peter’s spidey-senses being comfortable in her home just so she can see him jump ...then so be it.

She needs to get her kicks where she can.

Indeed, Peter jumps and yanks his hand from Wade’s skin to sit up.Wade, too, jerks into a seated position and gropes blindly towards the beside table for something that isn’t there.She’s a little disconcerted to know he’s likely habitually grabbing for a gun. She’s pleased there isn’t one for him to grab, that he appears to have remembered her wishes on the matter.

“Good morning,” she greets without cracking out into laughter at the looks on their faces. “Hello, Wade...” 

“...hi?”

“Pancakes and bacon,” she repeats, smiling to Peter and then raising her chin imperiously to go back to the kitchen again. 

The room she leaves behind is quiet as she goes, which is comical.She likes this even more now, she thinks. 

“I love bacon,” Wade comments with a hopeful look once she’s gone. 

“She’s not making it for you - everyone loves bacon,” Peter still wants to keep May to himself just as much as he wants to share her. 

“Not everyone,” Wade argues and flops back.“Are we supposed to go help?” he specifically remembers being rejected when he’d tried to help at Peter’s birthday. 

“No, you’re a guest,” Peter knows the rules, but he climbs over Wade to get up himself and bats away the hand that reaches for his hip when he does so. “I need to, though...” 

He grabs the first shirt he sees, a worn-in Colombia tee crumpled on the ground, and pulls it on as he exits his old bedroom.It’s only a little chilly from the window being left open, but May thinks it is gratuitous for him to walk around shirtless ever since he’d answered the door that way years ago and the landlord’s wife had gawked at his lean but defined muscles. 

“Morning,” he flattens his hair restlessly and starts grabbing mugs for all of them. 

“You didn’t have to get up yet...” 

Peter wonders if she really doesn’t care that he’d literally snuck a man into the house or if she’s just trying to be cool about it.To be accepting.Never mind that this is her home and she has the right to opinions about anythingor anyone in it. 

“Figured I should...” 

“Why?” May’s tone is mild. 

The way she always wants Peter to be the one to broach a thing has always made him squirm.It’s the kind of lesson he needs, even the shy corners of him know that, but he rarely feels overtly grateful for it. 

“Because,” his answer is easily as vague because he’s learned to play games over the years, too, alright. 

“Well,” she tuts and cracks open an egg. “I hope you didn’t think you _had_ to hide that...” 

“No,” Peter answers while Wade makes an unprecedented amount of noise as he exits Peter’s room and heads for the bathroom. “Just trying to figure it all out.It’s ...been a while.” 

He’s not sure why he hesitates to say. It’s not like May doesn’t know. 

“Alright...that’s alright, Peter,” her promise seems to make it more true.“As long as it’s good for you.” 

Peter nods.He’s pretty sure it is. Most days.So far. 

“I don’t suppose you need another safe sex talk,”her offer is bland but, he knows too well, very serious. 

“Ugh!”

“What?I’m an incredibly competent teacher,” she laughs as she argues.“I may not be classically schooled in health education, but I do my research!” 

“Stop!” Peter can hear Wade rattling around in the bathroom taking more time than necessary, and he needs this conversation to be over because he doesn’t trust Wade not to enjoy the hell out of it. “I’m already ...educated.”

May Parker had not trusted his school to provide proper education on this point, so when he’d started seeing Gwen in high school she had been sure to give him a very direct lesson.She’d even repeated it once he went off to college and would have a bed that was not under her roof. It could have been worse but, like, no ...he doesn’t need another. Today or ever. _Thanks, but no thanks. Bye_. 

“Okay, fine ...I don’t have any chocolate chips, so we’re just having regular pancakes,” she changes the subject swiftly because there’s a line between funny, ruffled Peter and stressed Peter than she didn’t like to purposefully cross.Much.

Wade does arrive on the scene a minute or so later, once again shuffling his feet, brushing against the doorway, and nudging a chair more loudly than necessary. 

“Seriously?” Peter looks up from fetching milk from the fridge to see Wade pretending to study one of Aunt May’s paintings on the wall that he has _definitely_ already seen before.

Wade shrugs, then he waves a finger between himself and May and flashes a shaky thumbs up.Peter gives him a nod, to which Wade makes a dramatic show of relaxing and shaking tension from his shoulders. 

“You’re not going to offer him anything?” May’s too busy whisking to tend to a guest.

“Coffee?” he offers. 

“Is the sky blue?” 

“Some days,” Peter answers smartly but drops a splash of milk in a mug before filling it the rest of the way with coffee and extending it out to Wade. 

Wade pulls a face at the other man’s sass, but then darts his eyes to May to make sure she wasn’t paying attention. Now that they’d just stepped onto some new plateau, he’ll have to watch himself and feel out if he’s still keeping the same standing with her. 

Peter sees Wade’s furtive look and smirks openly. 

May’s manners might make her defer kindly to Wade, but she was _his_ Aunt. Clearly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom. It's complete.  
> Probably the chap I fiddled with the most because at first I thought I wanted it to be a little funnier ...caught in a more compromising position, maybe? 
> 
> Buuuuut then I kind of just wanted everyone to be a bit more at peace than that. Maybe I'm a sucker lol. 
> 
> Hope you've all enjoyed.

**Author's Note:**

> spidey-pool prompts # 337: "5 times Aunt May thought Peter and Wade were just close friends, and one time Aunt May realized they were a little too close to be friends."


End file.
